


Finding Him Again

by Darling_Dixon08



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2020-07-19 10:37:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19972681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darling_Dixon08/pseuds/Darling_Dixon08
Summary: "Daryl? Daryl Dixon?" You spit out from where you sit.





	1. Chapter 1

"Daryl? Daryl Dixon?" You spit out from where you sit.

You were stumbling around the woods for days after being split from your small group. You were good at surviving, killing the dead but hunting for food was a weakness. You were literally starving to death when a group of 3 people found you in the woods. You had a stand off, knowing better then t0 willingly trust people you come across right away. You threw some good hits but they outnumbered you and took you with them. When the hood came off your head, you're sitting in a nicely furnished house, a few pairs of eyes on you. You look around at them, never staring to long until you meet the eyes of a women sitting across from you with a camera pointed at you. She tells you they are going to interview you, get to know you, but then they will allow me to clean up and get some food. The women, Deanna, asks all the questions at first. You answer them, trying to keep things short as you feel the situation out. Her questions are not ones you anticipate, more about skills you had before the world fell apart. The man behind her finally speaks up "How many walkers have you killed?"

Your eyes meet his, remembering the women introduced him as Rick. You answer "hundreds" not able to keep track.

"How many people have you killed?" He follows it up. You honestly haven't thought of the number in a long time. You stopped counting after 5, knowing your toll doesn't matter in this world. You try and answer "maybe 8, or 10. I stopped counting after 5." You shrug.

"Why?" She then follows up, his eyes boring into you. You can feel how serious he is.

You answer "most of them would've killed me if I didn't kill them. Another group trying to take over, or worse." Your eyes veer to the man on the side of the room as he adjusts to your words. You meet Rick's eyes again "but two of them was to stop them from turning."

"Alright, thank you for your honesty. My friend, Daryl will take you to get cleaned up." He nods, not informing me any further of what's going to happen next

The man Daryl comes over to me and utters "come on."

Our eyes meet close up and I can see something familiar in them. "Daryl? Daryl Dixon?" The name just rolls off your tongue. You haven't thought or said it in over a decade but you'll never forget those eyes.

He squints at you, placing your familiarity and utters "Y/N Y/L/N?"

"Holy shit" You mutter out, shocked he's actually standing in front of you.

You hear Deanna ask "you two know each other?"

Rick comes over to stand next to Daryl and looks at him "what's going on?" He asks.

Daryl just continues to stare at you, and I decide to explain "we uhhh, we went to high school together. Old friends." You shrug. You don't need to elaborate to the others the further details of your relationship. Of the life you once had. You can tell he's trying to figure out what to do next so you try and make it easy for them "don't change your plans. I know you don't know me. Hell, Daryl and I haven't seen each other in over 20 years."

Rick nods, and you hear him whisper to Daryl "take her to get cleaned up, give her some food."

Daryl nods, leans down to grab at your arm "less go" He lets go once you stand and you follow him to a house two houses down and straight up the stairs. He opens a door to a bathroom and waits for you to walk in. After you do, you turn around and Daryl mutters "clean up and go across ta here after" he points to the bedroom across the hall "I'll get ya some food and clean clothes."

"Thank you." Is all you manage to say back, still shocked you're standing next to him. He nods, and turns to leave you to it.

After you clean up, change and eat the food he left you hang around the room. You heard it lock while  
you were dressing. Normally you'd start to work on a plan, but you know Daryl. Even though it's been so long, he always had a good heart. You know if he's here with these people, and in some kind of control, then you’re safe for now. So as you sit and wait for further instruction, you let your mind flash back to the last time you two talked.

Flashback-

"So, thas it? I have no say in this?" Daryl yells toward you.

"Not your choice Dixon! You're not the one who'd have to give up everything." You spit back.

He scoffs "What you sayin? I got nothin' to lose? Sayin ima loser?"

He's mad, and you knew he would be but he's turning into something it's not. You try and calm him "You know I'm not saying that. But my parents won't pay for anything if I have this baby. No college, no place to live, they'll take my car! I have no choice."

You found out your were pregnant 3 weeks ago. You told Daryl right away and things just kind of stayed normal for a week. You don't think either of you realized he seriousness of it until your parents found out. They flipped. You had a partial scholarship to college for the fall and they weren't going to let you throw that away to have a baby. They told you they would kick you out and cut you off if you decided to go through with having the baby. They said if you were old enough to have a baby then you'd be old enough to take care of it on your own. "I'll take care of yew!" Daryl spits back, wanting to keep the baby and to keep you in his life.

"Daryl, you live in a trailer home with your brother. We can't have a baby. Come on, you know this." You try and get him on your side, to see things the way you're seeing it.

He shakes his head "nah, we could. I'll get another job, get two more jobs. We can do this." He puts a hand on your stomach, willing you see things his way.

You look away from him, a tear rolling down your face "Daryl, you know it'll never work. I have to do this."

He scoffs and moves to walk away. You haven't seen Daryl since. A week later you went to the clinic but while you were waiting for your appointment, you changed your mind. Daryl and you had something special and if he was willing to get three jobs to support you so you could have this baby, then you would be willing to lose everything and start a life with him. You left before they could call your name and went straight to Daryl's. Except Daryl and Merle's trailer was gone. You tried to ask whomever you knew ran with Merle to find out where they went but no one knew anything, they just left a few days ago.

Present time:

Someone else comes around to let you out and escort you to another house about two hours later. You sit, and in walks a young women "hi, I'm Denise. I'm going to give you a quick check up."

You nod, not going to argue with that. When she's done, she directs you to go back to the house you were first interviewed in. Once there, Deanna tells you "you're welcome to stay. We've reviewed your tape and talked it out. That is of course if you'd like, if not we can set you up with some supplies and take you out somewhere."

"Oh, wow. Okay. Uhm, thank you." You utter, feeling awkward "I mean, I'd like to stay, sure."

"Great! Rick and his friends have offered their space for you to come and go as you please as if it's your own. Please take a day or two to get comfortable and then we'll work something out further on you pulling your weight here." She steps closer to you "welcome to Alexandria."

"Thank you." You accept the hand shake and she smiles then leaves. The women who took you to the doctor, Carol, walks you to your new house. Once inside, you meet a few people but ultimately just want to be left alone. You excuse yourself, heading off to the backyard to get some privacy. "Excuse me"  
You say as you open the door and see someone out there. Daryl turns, smoking a cigarette and just stares at you "sorry, I'll uhh, leave you too it."

"It's fine" he murmurs and turns back around. You decide to stay outside and go stand next to him.

The two of you stare off, towards the fenced wall and you ask "got another?" He takes the pack and offers it to you. He takes out his lighter and lights it for you. You take a deep inhale and let the smoke out quickly in one push pit "ahh, I haven't smoked since I found out I was pregnant after that football game."

He eyes you, his own memory coming back to those days of you two all so long ago. He questions "what? Didn't pick back up after ya abortion." He spits out the word.

"I didn't have one" you tell him. You always wanted him to know you changed your mind but you never saw him again. You tried every once in awhile in your 20s to find him, but there was nothing.

He turns to you, heart beating. What did she just say? He wonders if he has or maybe had a child. "Yew didn't?" You shake your head to confirm and then he stutters "am I— uhh, am I—"

You shake your head "no, I had a miss-carriage my 5th month." You look away from him when you tell him. You were ashamed you even considered abortion and then even more ashamed after the miss-carriage.

"Y/N." He whispers your name. Daryl knew nothing of this. When you told him what you wanted to do, he couldn't get over it. He was okay with having a family because that meant it would be with you. He would've done anything to make it work. But you didn't want anything to do with him, that's what he read into the conversation. So, he convinced Merle to up and move and he never turned back.

You shrug one shoulder and say "I tried to find you, even after. For years. I just— I'm sorry." You get out, the heaviness you’ve been carrying all these years encasing you.

A teardrop rolls down your cheek and he wipes it away "naw, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left. I was a coward."

You shake your head "no, no. You wanted to have the baby, I wanted to run away. I'm sorry."

He exhales, both cigarettes wilted down to the end. Daryl says "let's uhhh, let's talk later." He looks at the door and you look then, seeing someone standing there waiting for Daryl. "I'm glad yer safe."

"I'm glad I'm here." You say as he moves to walk inside.

"Me too" you faintly here him add.

You and Daryl are older now, the world is different and your not the same two teens you were when you were together but you are happy to see him again. You know things won't be the same, but you just hope you two can connect again and become friends.


	2. Finding him Again 2

A few nights later and I'm back on the back porch smoking a cigarette with Daryl. Every night I've been waiting for everyone else to come in and go to sleep, not feeling comfortable taking someone's spot for the night and wanting to see what would be open for me. Every night Daryl waited up with me, talking with me outside as the night passed us by. We didn't talk much, just the occasional few exchanges about things we've seen or done since the dead has come to life. On this particular night, it drizzles and we're barely covered by the back awning. Maybe it's the smell of the rain, something I've always loved that causes me to ask him "remember our first time together ?"

He barely tilts his head towards me and squints "course I do." 

I take a big whiff of the sulfur smelling air and smirk towards him "I can't believe I'm standing next to you again."

"Small fuckin' world for sure." He mutters back taking a drag.

I question him, wanting to know for years before I stopped thinking about him "where did you and Merle go when you left?"

I can see him biting his inner lip, something he always did when he was thinking of his answers. I wait patiently for him to tell me. "Buncha places. Stayed in Georgia, went to South Carolina, West Virginia."

"What was your favorite place?" I decide to ask him.

He quickly answers "home."

"Really?" I ask him. He nods once to confirm and I ask another question "then why'd you leave?" He just stands hunched over the ledge without looking at me, "you ever gonna talk to me about it?"

He stands up abruptly, throwing his cigarette in front of him "I'm goin to bed." I watch him as he heads to the door. Once he slides it open and goes inside, he quietly adds "its startin' to come down more. Don't get yourself sick."

I stay outside for another 20 minutes, wishing Daryl and I could talk like we used to. Daryl doesn't come outside to see me for another 2 weeks. He barely even looks at me when we see each other around. He doesn't say anything to me until I'm out on a run with him and two others and a deadhead almost got ahold of my leg. I pant out to him "thank you."

He angrily retorts with "yeah, les jus not make it a habit." I nod and we continue on the run.

Later that evening I'm standing outside alone when the door opens. When I peak behind me I see Daryl's now familiar frame. I don't say anything to him, and turn back around to stare at the wall in front of me. He comes to stand next to me and offers me a cigarette. I shake my head, deciding I shouldn't pick this habit back up again. He puts them away, not taking one for himself. The silence isn't comfortable like it used to be, so I move to go inside "night, Daryl."

"Y/N, wait" his voice is low and raspy, as if he hasn't spoken in days. I turn and look at him, expecting him to say something about today's run and putting myself in danger. It surprises me when he asks "did you know if it was a boy or girl, I mean— before yew lost it?"

I barely get out above the blowing wind "a boy."

He drops his head for a moment but quickly lifts it up and steps closer to me "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you through that."

He puts an arm on my elbow, wondering if it's okay to do so. I allow it, and explain to him "you have no reason to apologize. I'm the one who's sorry."

"What? No— stop." He tries to protest.

But I stop him by speaking over him "Daryl, really. Stop. I was being selfish and not thinking of you, of us. I was only worried about myself.

"We were young, it's understandable to feel scared and want to do what you wanted ta do." He tries to tell me, "I was the one who ran away. I shoulda stayed and been with you."

"You didn't want me to get an abortion. I understand why you left." I open up to him, never having been mad at him for leaving. He thought I went through with it, he had every right to be mad. He knew from the start he wanted the baby, and I shamefully didn't realize it until it was almost to late.

He shakes his head "but you didn't have one, you were keeping our baby."

"Daryl, you had no idea of knowing that's what I would've ended up doing." I still try to get him to not feel guilty.

He pushes more "but if I just stayed and talked to you, stayed and maybe went wit yew then everything coulda been different."

"It wouldn't be" I get out in breath, knowing this miscarriage would've happened no matter what. It ended being a medical condition.

He puts his other hand on my other arm and replies "I'm just sorry." He looks so defeated, and I don't know why but I felt the need to move in and hug him. He accepts my hug, wrapping his arms around me and holding onto me tightly "I really wish things ended differently then."

"Me too" I reply, not sure I should tell him just how much I missed him and for how long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 20 kuddos for another..?


	3. Finding Him Again 3

Daryl and I continued to talk at night on the back porch as everyone else would fall asleep. We talked about everything from the last store we shopped in before the world broke to how we ended up standing next to each other. He told me about Merle dying when he was living in a prison and I told him how my best friend died two weeks into this terrifying new world. We talk for hours every night for 3 weeks, catching each other up on every detail we've missed in each other's lives over the decades. We talked about everything except the hard stuff. I knew he wanted to ask questions but he just couldn't get them out. I knew I couldn't answer without getting emotional, so I never brought it up either. One night as we're laughing about an old memory of us stealing Merle's beer, we're brought to silence by an alarm going off. It's like the sound of 5 different types of wind chimes all going off at once, like a tornado is about to blow through town. Daryl and I stare at each other and he mutters "get inside, get errone up."

He runs to the side of the house and is out of sight in a matter of seconds. I do what he directed, people already stirring awake from the noise and hustling to put their shoes and weapons on. I find someone who's almost fully dressed and follow them out of the house "what's going on?"

"They need more hands at the gates, probably just a heard." Rosita explains to me as I keep up with her jog.

I ask "all this ruckus for some meatheads?"

She answers "gotta get em elsewhere so they don't attract more."

I go to ask her what she means but we get to where we are running to and see a truck, rigged with all those chimes to the back of it. Someone unfamiliar banging each chime with a stick over and over again and I spot Daryl in the drivers seat. I run over to the window and ask in a huff "what's going on?"

"Ima drive em out a some miles, steer em in another direction. I'll be back in a few days." He quickly explains.

"Few days?" I repeat, my heart skipping a beat "is this safe?"

My hands sweat as I hold onto the open window. He shrugs "done it before, I'm good."

Rick comes up from behind and says to him "we'll be seeing ya."

My look between them as Daryl nods. Before he could fully get the truck out of park, I yell out "let me come with you!" Rick and Daryl share a glance and I quickly add on "I want to help! Please."

"Naw, I got this." Daryl tried to decline my offer to help.

Rick goes to shrug, wanting to leave it up to him but I protest further "please, I want to help. Let me see how this is done so I can help in the future."

Daryl shakes his head "don't need no help."

I try further "what if you're on a run one night and they need someone to do this? Come on. Let me help."

Daryl rolls his eyes and looks to Rick for help. Rick just shakes his head and mutters "I'm leavin' this to you."

"Fine" he grumbles, clearly wanting to just get moving.

I skip over to the passenger side and Daryl drives off before the door is even shut. The two of us sit silently together. Although we are quiet, the sounds of the chimes on the truck and the dead behind us fills the air. After a few hours of driving, I say to him "thanks for letting me come along."

"Just don't go getting yourself killed now that I found ya." I can see him bite his lower lip, clearly saying something he didn't want to say out loud.

I ask "finally found me, huh? Where you ever out there looking for me?" He sighs, but doesn't answer me. After a few minutes I decide to tell him "I looked for you for a long time. Longer then I'd like to say." He squints for a second at me but quickly tries to cover it up and focus back on the road ahead of us. I decide to add on "years actually, I was always asking everyone you and Merle knew if they heard from you. No one ever did."

"Left it all behind" he answers back.

I add on "and never looked back, I suppose." Another few miles of silence and I ask him "what do we do once we've gone out far enough? How do we get back?"

He explains "we got another truck parked and hidden. Will drop it off, switch, and come back and do it again in a few days when the heard is gone."

I nod "so you've done this a few times."

"Yup" he replies, keeping it short. Another hour later and Daryl is slowing down, he informs me "the truck is parked down over there" he points to the woods, a small hill noticeable as we drive by. I try to find it but can't, figuring they just hid it very well. He goes on to tell me what happens next "ima pick up the speed, go another two miles. We tie up the chimes to stop em from banging and we head into the woods."

"Sounds alright," I say back. He pulls the trucks over suddenly and I take off the seatbelt "let's do this."

"Nah, I got this. Stay in the car." He mutters as he hops out. I ignore his instruction and get out to help him, coming around to the back of the truck as he hoists himself up "what are you doing, get outta here."

"I'm going to help you!" I yell back, seeing him work at a rope. We work for about 2 minutes when I hear the sound of the dead getting closer "shit, I shoulda drove farther!"

"Should we just keep going?" I ask, my heart racing as I tie up another set of chimes.

He replies "get in the truck!"

I hop off quickly and get back in the truck the same time as him. He quickly turns the truck on and squeals forward, bumping over old trees and debris to move. The truck begins to swerve around spin and I can tell he's losing control. The truck flips twice, stopping on its side.


	4. Finding Him Again 4

"Y/N, Y/N!" My head is pounding and my eyes are hard to keep open but I can hear the urgency in Daryl's voice.

I stammer out, "ya, ya. I'm here."

"Can you get out? I'm almost out, can help ya." He manages to say as he struggles to get out of the truck that is now laying on its side smoking.

"I'm uhhhh, I'm working on it" I start to try and move, the fact that I didn't have a seatbelt on actually working in my favor for this. I only need to struggle to move for about 2 minutes before Daryl is leaning back in the window to grab at me, "ahhh, ok, ok." I manage to utter as he grabs me the best he can to yank me out. I hear the glass crunch under me as my body brushes past some left over from the wreck.

My side of the truck was the one that landed on the concrete, so my arms scrapped up pretty bad, but it's easy to ignore the pain when we stumble off the truck and see a heard of zombies making their way towards us, "you good to move?" He asks me, keeping a hand on my shoulder.

I nod, "yea, but where to? The working truck is in the direction they're coming from!" My heart rate is fast and my words stumble out in one big breath.

He answers calmly, "we move till we find somewhere to hold up, wait em out."

I nod, and quickly get out, "let's go then!"

I use whatever energy I can muster to run off ahead of the heard with him. Although I'm generally a good runner, the pain of the crash is setting in early and I know there's additional injuries then just the scratches down my arm. Luckily, after about an hour and a half of running and another hour of jogging, we find a beat up tree house still intact in a lightly wooded area, "we gotta get get up there."

"The ladders broke but I can probably still make it." I huff out, bending over my knees to catch my breath now that we stopped.

He snorts and pulls at his backpack, he pulls out a few knives and grumbles, "I'll make ya some steps, hold this." He thrusts his backpack towards me. It takes a about a half hour for Daryl to get things together and for us to get up there. It's obvious this treehouse was used for safety during this shit of a world, but it's also clear it's been abandoned for some time and reused who knows how many others. When we sit down, the pain finally takes over and I lay down on my back, doing my best to not growl out my anguish with cuss words. After a few minutes, he says, "you got a lot of blood on ya, wanna clean up?" He offers his canteen.

I shake my head and reply, "we should save it, we don't know how long it'll take em to pass through." He nods, placing it down and I take a moment to look down at myself. I take a minute to survey my injuries. I notice a decent sized gash on my leg from some glass shard that must've pierced it, but came out during the run. The bruises I can see are already fully formed and purple and yellow. I rip my sleeve off to tie around the top of my cut. After doing that, I try my best to wipe my face off with the other sleeve, hoping the dust and dirt and dried blood come off easily and don't stain my face. After finishing up taking care of myself, I decide to look up and over to Daryl. The tree house is small, probably only 8 feet wide. His eyes are already looking into mine. I say out to him, "you got a pretty nasty gash by your ear."

"I'm fine" he retorts, not even moving to try and see how bad it is.

I answer, "it's still bleeding, should put some pressure on it."

"S'fine." He mutters again, his breath already caught up and his chest rising and lowering at a consistent rate.

I shake my head and move to squat next to him. I take a piece of semi-clean shirt from my lower half and lift it to his head. He goes to move from me but I argue, "let me just stop the bleeding." I use one hand to push his head to my stomach and the other to hold the back of his head still. We stay still, him using my shirt as a cloth for about 10 minutes, until I'm confident the blood is not trickling out anymore. I return to my spot against the other wall and him and I just look at our feet, occasionally glancing up to each other.

After an hour of being up there, we hear the heard come through. Both of us sit frozen, not even moving to look down to see how far they've past. Some more hours pass and although the sound of the dead has lowered, there are still some lingering. Even though they are still around, I guess Daryl figures it's alright to talk because he asks, "yew okay?"

He must've noticed the tears stinging the corners of my eyes. I quickly wipe at it and answer while nodding my head, "yah, I'm fine."

A few minutes later he answers, "yew ain't fine, what's wrong?"

I sigh, still wiping at the tears that have started to fall, "really, it's nothing. Just tired." He nods, and I am glad he leaves it at that. However, it wasn't nothing, in fact it was a lot of shit from the past I never actually got to deal with. Although I told him it was okay that he left, I guess I was still mad at him for it and it wasn't okay. I had to go through my miscarriage alone, I had to get surgery done alone and take care of everything afterwards by myself. When I decided to keep the baby, my family cut me off. I was living on a couch in the office I worked at for the first two months saving all my money to get my own apartment. After I lost the baby, my parents still didn't want to have anything to do with me, so I was always alone after he left. Sitting here quietly next to Daryl, a million scenarios running through my head of what could've been, it's just too much for me. After another 25 minutes and less dead growls being heard, I finally ask him "why'd you leave? Why did you just disappear on us?"

His eyes stare at me as I speak but when I finally look at him, he looks away but answers, "I thought yew didn't wanna be wit me. It was just easier to leave then ta see ya after our fight."

I shake my head, "daryl, I was carrying our kid. I was scared. I had nobody when you left. It was just us."

"I thought you were gon' get rid of it." He hesitates, and corrects himself, "him. I thought you were gettin' rid of me."

I shake my head, "I didn't know what to do. My family said they'd disown me. We were barely 18, you were living with Merle and barely getting by with just your job. I didn't realize I had other options and that's the only option I thought I had."

I can tell Daryl is trying to keep his voice low, "I told you I'd get 2 more jobs to support us all! You didn't want to hear any of it."

"So you just left? You didn't say anything, you don't try to talk to me or anything?" I retort, my eyes no longer wet from crying but squinted with hurt and pain, "I needed you! Losing DJ was the hardest thing I've ever been through next to losing you."

"DJ?" He asks.

My heart skips at the realization of what I just said, knowing he never knew the name I gave to our baby the moment I found out it was a boy. I lower my head and close my eyes as I say to him, "you were gone and I thought I lost you. I never wanted to lose you. I uhh, I wanted him to have your name. Daryl Junior."

Daryl's large, warm hand touches my cheek and pulls my eyes up to his. I can see the pain in the them and he whispers, "I'm sorry." Before I could acknowledge him and accept or nod or anything, I just lean up and he leans in and our lips find each other, passionately kissing one another like we did over 25 years ago.

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this a few years ago on another site and just reread it again! 10 kudos and I’ll write a follow up :)


End file.
